//------------------------------// // Chapter 9 // Story: A Still More Glorious Dawn Awaits // by CDRW //------------------------------// A Still More Glorious Dawn Awaits Chapter 9 By CDRW Rarity Comprehension ~ Day 2 Rarity was dumbfounded as she watched the heaving form of Applejack glaring down at the remains of the kitchen table. This wasn't her friend. Applejack couldn't be this...this angry. Applejack was steady and solid. The pony she was looking at wasn't like that. "I’m sorry, I... I think I need to be alone for a minute..." Applejack walked across the large kitchen to the door on the other side with her head down, and Rarity saw that she was trembling all over. The cowpony paused in the doorway for a second as if she was about to look back but changed her mind. Then, with an agitated swish of her tail, she stepped out and closed the door behind her. The eyes of everypony in the room shifted from the door to the broken table at their feet. For a long moment, Rarity, Clementine, Mimosa, and Granny Smith all just stared wordlessly down at it. Absently, Rarity wondered if it was possible to fix it. She mentally started to piece the table back together, and all the while in the back of her mind, she was trying to do the same with the shattered image of her friend. Granny Smith was the first pony to speak, her voice creaky and tired. "Well, Ah reckon' we should get this mess all cleaned up while she calms down." "Do..." Rarity swallowed and tried again, pointing down with one hoof. "Do you think we can fix it?" Granny Smith looked up at her, squinting her eyes to focus on Rarity. "No. Applejack did a number on it. It's done good and broken. Ah don't reckon anypony could fix it now." Clementine started gathering up some of the pieces one by one while Mimosa did nothing at all to help her mother. Granny Smith started helping too, infirm and barely able to get around without a walker though she was. Rarity joined in, levitating a table leg out of the pile, uncertain what to do with it. Rarity didn't think she'd ever been in the house when Applejack wasn't there. It seemed strange and a little uncomfortable, like she shouldn't be there. That's because I shouldn't! The leg hit the floor with a wooden clatter as Rarity turned, flung open the door, and ran out. Applejack had just learned of the death of her brother, stood helplessly by while Fluttershy disappeared, and just now found out that another family member was wanted for murder of all things. She had just had her whole world torn out from under her. And Fluttershy? Rarity remembered all the late nights she'd stayed up with Fluttershy. The conversations, the happy smiles as the pegasus told her about Macintosh's clumsy but sincere romantic overtures. Her absolute giddy happiness when she came knocking on Rarity's door at eleven o'clock at night to tell her that he'd proposed. Trying to convince her that he was going to be all right when the army called him up to active duty. One night, a week after Macintosh left, she'd shown up on Rarity’s doorstep at three in the morning. When Rarity invited her in and asked what was wrong, Fluttershy confided that she and Macintosh had been planning to start a family, and she was terrified that it was never going to happen. Neither of them got any sleep that night as they talked quietly until dawn. Yesterday, her worst fears had come true, and Rarity hadn’t been there. Rarity hadn't been there for either of them. Now her best friend was missing, and another dear friend was breaking down. Of course she shouldn't be in the farmhouse! She should be with Applejack! She galloped through the living room, and burst out the front door. Skidding to a stop, she frantically looked all around. There! Applejack was slowly walking along the road that led out from Sweet Apple Acres. Her head was still down, but she was walking faster than before. Every step the cowpony took hit the ground with an audible thump. Rarity could have been there, but she hadn't known anything was wrong. She would have been there, dresses be damned. This time she did know, and she wasn't just going to let her friend walk off alone after something like that. "Applejack, wait!" she called as she ran up alongside her. Applejack just kept walking. "Applejack!" Rarity reached out her hoof and put it on Applejack's tense shoulder. Maybe I can convince her to come to the spa and get a massage when we’re done. She could use it. Applejack stopped walking and simply stood there with her eyes and ears hidden under her hat. Her continued silence was starting to worry Rarity. "I... I'm sorry about everything Applejack. I wish I was here last night to help. I should have been, but I didn't know." Applejack's words came drifting out from under the brim of her hat, so low that Rarity could barely hear. "I know that, Rarity, and I ain't gonna hold it against you, but now ain't a good time." She gathered her courage and took a deep breath. What she was going to say would be hard but she had to say it, and trust that her friendship would be enough to make Applejack listen. "I think now is the perfect time Applejack," Rarity pushed. "You're upset and aren't acting like yourself. We should go inside and talk about what happened. Or we could go down to my boutique if you want to keep it private. But either way I think you need to get this off your chest. It will help you feel better, I promise." "Please leave me alone, Rarity." "No," Rarity said firmly as she put her hoof down. "I'm not going to stand idly by while a dear friend is hurting and I can do something about it." Applejack still wasn't looking at her, but she put on a gentle smile anyway and let the tension in her voice slip away. "Please, just talk to me Applejack." She put her hoof out again and rubbed Applejack's shoulder. The other mare's skin twitched under her touch, and suddenly Applejack raised her head. Her eyebrows were pulled down over narrowed eyes, and her mouth was clenched so tightly that Rarity could actually see the muscles in her jaw bunching up. It was the way she’d looked back in the kitchen, only the target was different this time. Rarity took two steps back as Applejack directed a look of pure rage at her. "I said leave me alone!" Applejack's shout hit Rarity like a physical blow. Rarity stumbled back, her ears flat against her head and her eyes wide in shock. Applejack took a deep breath, then swung her head around and started walking back down the road. When Rarity could get her legs to work again, she turned around and ran into the farmhouse. Pinkie Pie Comprehension ~ Day 2 "There it is! THERE IT IS!" Pinkie Pie was leaping so high she almost felt like she could hurdle Trixie's wagon if she really tried, but she was too busy pointing and explodiciting at what had to be the most exciting non-exploding sight she'd ever seen with her own eyes, or anypony else's eyes. The thing that had Pinkie Pie so excited was Canterlot. Sort of. You could see Canterlot from miles and miles around, but what you couldn't see from miles and miles around was the main gate, because it was on the side of the mountain and even though the road was big and paved with big stones (Granite! And from a high-quality, high-yield farm too! That had to be expensive) it was steep and winding. The road curved back and forth up the side of the mountain so you couldn't see the gate until you were almost there, and it was pretty tiring for anypony who was pulling a heavy house-shaped wagon, which might have been why Trixie wasn't happy when she stopped pushing and started jumping and squealing. But she couldn't not sqump! They were there! At Canterlot! Trixie (The Great And Powerful) shot an extremely exasperated look her way and snapped, "What do you think you're doing? Stop talking and start pushing!" "Just imagine! The excitement, the parties, the pastries!" Pinkie Pie bounced to the front of the wagon, where Trixie was straining against her harness, and let off a burst of streamers in the other mare's face. "Stop. Doing. That." Trixie was trying to make a scary face, but the effect was completely ruined by the streamer that hung from her nose, and she seemed to understand that because she sneezed. "Where do you even get those things from? Also, stop talking and start pushing!" "I hear"—Pinkie stopped to hyperventilate, then started again—"that there's a doughnut shop here that sells doughnuts so superficiacicaly delicious that CELESTIA HERSELF stops by every single day to get a dozen!" Pinkie Pie stared at Trixie so hard their eyeballs touched. "A goddess! Buys their doughnuts! And that's just the glazed ones!" Then she grabbed Trixie's face and squeezed her cheeks so that she looked like a goldfish with her lips moving in and out while she tried to say something. "The ones with sprinkles could probably kill somepony!" Trixie violently pulled her head away from Pinkie Pie's hooves, and then struck a snooty pose, nearly getting pulled over for her trouble when the wagon tried to roll back down the mountain. Nevertheless, Trixie prevailed in the face of adversity. "The Great and Powerful Trixie has it on great authority, meaning her own, that Celestia is nothing but a fraud who is using illusion magic, which happens to be Trixie's area of expertise, to fool the poor deluded masses into thinking she's a goddess. And by poor deluded masses, Trixie means you, as well as anypony who believes anything you believe." Pinkie Pie patted Trixie on the head as she made another bouncing lap around the wagon, knocking the other mare's hat askew and said, "Silly filly of course she's real! You can see for yourself when we stop by Pony Joe's to get sprinkle doughnuts!" Trixie straightened her hat and glared sewing needles at Pinkie Pie. "The Great and Powerful Trixie refuses to spend bits on junk food! And why aren't you back there pushing! You're an earth pony! Manual labor is all you're good for so get back there an—Wah!" The Great and Powerful Trixie cried out in surprise as the wagon started moving seemingly all on it's own, dragging her along in front of it by the harness, but it wasn't moving on its own because Pinkie Pie was in back pushing it as hard as she could, which was pretty darn hard because she'd grown up on a rock farm and rocks are super heavy which means they’re a bazillion times harder to push than a house on wheels. "Why are you pulling so slow anyway, Trixie? Didn't you want to get to Canterlot as soon as possible? It's Canterlot! And you're Trixie!" Pinkie Pie was so excited she felt like singing. In fact, she should sing the most songful song ever. Maybe that would help Trixie cheer up. For some reason Trixie seemed like she was in a bad mood even though Pinkie Pie was helping push again. Seriously, Canterlot was right there! It was settled. Trixie needed a song. The other pony's voice drifted up and over the top of the wagon, "If you start singing, Trixie swears, she's going shove a pine cone down your throat!" Pinkie Pie stopped in her tracks as her jaw dropped open. "No, The Great and Powerful Trixie can't read minds, she's just that good! Now pick your jaw up off the ground and push you foal! Push like you're pregnant and constipated!" Pinkie Pie shook her head and started pushing again for the second time in as many seconds. This time, she didn't let up though. She wasn't sure she bought Trixie's claim that she couldn't read minds, and it wasn't ever a good idea to make a mind-reader mad. They might make your head explode. "Hah! The Great and Powerful Trixie wouldn't stop at just one explosion!" Pinkie Pie squeaked, "Okay, how are you doing that? Are you a wizard?" "The Great and Powerful Trixie has already gone over this! Yes she is a wizard! And as for how she's doing it, it's magic! She doesn't have to explain—" "Halt!" interrupted a loud voice, cutting Trixie’s rant short. Pinkie Pie, however, was too busy trying to figure out how you could make something explode twice to pay attention. Why had the wagon just gotten so hard to push? It was like it was heavier all of a sudden. "Pinkie Pie," Trixie said nervously. "Stop pushing the wagon." "I said halt!" "Stop pushing Pinkie Pie! Stop pushing stoppushingstoppushing!" Trixie let out a terrified scream that curdled Pinkie Pie's saliva, breaking her out of her reverie. Quick as a talking cupcake, she stuck her head out from behind the wagon to see what the matter was.Turned out it wasn't a rampaging dragon. Just a white unicorn in gold armor. He stood his ground in front of the drawbridge that led into Canterlot (they were already there!), his eyes wide as he stared directly into the baby blues of The Great and Powerful Trixie. The only reason their lips weren't touching was because the magician had managed to cover her mouth with her hat just in time. "Eeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!" Trixie squealed, her hooves scrambling on the stone as she tried to push the wagon backwards. There were actually two guards in front of the drawbridge, but Trixie had only kissed one. Pinkie Pie nodded her head in approval. "Wow Trixie!" she said as she popped up next to her friend. "We just barely got to Canterlot and you've already got yourself a boyfriend!" "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Trixie bunched up her hat in her magic and threw it away like it had grown three legs and a slime-tongue. Her horn glowed a brilliant blue, and the hat burst into flame in mid-flight. "The Great and Powerful Trixie does not have a boyfriend! The Great and Powerful Trixie would never have a boyfriend because the Great and Powerful Trixie does not like stallions!" The one guard's expression fell, and the other looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. It was everything they could do to maintain their professional demeanor. Trixie whirled on Pinkie Pie. "This is all your fault! What if The Great and Powerful Trixie caught something! Huh? What if she has the cooties now!" Oh, maybe they weren't so professional after all. Wait, never mind. Still professional, but not so happy. "Umm, Trixie?" Pinkie Pie said hesitantly. "That's a real disease you know! Of course you wouldn't know, because it's a magical disease and only affects unicorns, not stupid, imbecilic earth ponies like you!" "Trixie?" Pinkie Pie asked, finally getting the other mare's attention by waving her hooves in the air (like you just don't care!). "If only unicorns can get the cooties, how could you catch it from an earth pony?" Pinkie pointed, and Trixie turned to look at the guard, whose face was every bit as stony as the stones he stood on. And those stones were very stony because of the high-grade granite. "If you are quite done," he said, "I need to see your papers please." Trixie wasn't dismayed in the least. "Ugh, fine!" She rolled her eyes and unhitched herself from the wagon. It only took her a moment to walk around back, open the door, and levitate out some pieces of paper which she held up for the guard to see. He spent a few moments looking over the papers and nodded at Trixie, who folded them up and was about to strap herself back in when he said, "Everything seems to be in order, now we'll just need to search your wagon." Trixie froze, and so did the air around her. Seriously, the air actually got colder. Pinkie Pie started shivering, so she pulled out a scarf and wrapped it around her neck. "And just why do you need to search Trixie's wagon?" Trixie bit off every word with a snap of her teeth. "Her paperwork is fine, you said so yourself. And Trixie can vouch for the fact that they're fine because she spent five hours in line and thirty bits to get her permits." "Policy, ma'am. In light of recent events, we're to search every wagon and cart that enters the city." Pinkie Pie decided that she would never ever play a game of poker with that guard. "And if Trixie refused?" "Then you'll have a long walk down the mountain." Trixie glared daggers that Pinkie Pie was surprised were only metaphorical, and both of the guards returned it with a silent stare of their own. "Fine," Trixie growled, then she swept her cape and turned around to lead the guards to the door. "You stay right there!" She glared at Pinkie Pie. "You're not allowed in Trixie's wagon! And you!" This time she glared at the guards. "If you touch or even look at anything hard, Trixie is not responsible for the consequences! She doesn't need you blowing her wagon sky-high!" The guards exchanged a look. "And yes Trixie has a permit to transport and handle fireworks and other explosives! You just saw it!" Trixie stomped her hooves and led the two guards inside, closing the door behind her. A few minutes passed, during which Pinkie Pie somehow managed not to explode with curiosity, and then all three of them came back out, Trixie wearing a half-triumphant, half-bitter look, while the guards looked almost disappointed. Without a word, they signaled for the ponies on the wall to lower the drawbridge. Trixie strapped herself into the harness again, and she pulled it across the bridge and into the city. Canterlot was awesome. There were ponies everywhere! Ponies walking, ponies talking, ponies eating, ponies doing things that ponies really shouldn't be doing in public! And there were buildings too! White buildings, and some other colors, but mostly white because apparently Empress Celestia really really liked the color white so she made her city white, but Pinkie Pie was all right with that because frosting is white! It was awesome just looking at it from far away, but now they were there and all of the awesomeness was still there even though Pinkie Pie looked at everything really closely while the drawbridge raised behind them and shut with a dull thud. She was so excited that she just had to hug Trixie. "We're here! I know I said that before but that was a 'we're almost there' we're here, and this is a 'we're really actually for sure here' we're here. I can't believe we're—" Pinkie Pie looked down in confusion as she felt something small and hard shift between her body and Trixie's. "What's that?" Suddenly, Trixie was sweating bullets for some reason. She quickly stepped away from Pinkie and said, "What's what?" as her eyes darted back and forth. Pinkie Pie pointed at Trixie's cape. "That thing in your pocket." "Trixie doesn't have anything in her pocket. Trixie doesn't even have any pockets. It's a cape, why would anypony put pockets in a cape anyway? That would make it so it doesn't billow properly in the wind, so it's silly to think that Trixie has anything in her pocket when she doesn't have any pockets. See?" At this, Trixie threw her cape wide open to show Pinkie Pie that there were indeed no pockets in her cape. "Huh." Pinkie Pie stepped in close and examined every square inch of fabric. There weren't any pockets. "How come your horn is glowing?" Trixie's eyes grew even wider before she went cross-eyed trying to look at her horn. All of a sudden, the glow surrounding it disappeared. "It's not!" "Oooookay." Pinkie went back to examining Trixie's cape while keeping an eye on her horn. The magician was acting weird, and Pinkie wasn't going to stand for any funny business. Not until Trixie learned to tell a joke at least. "That's weird. Still no pockets, but I could have sworn I felt something right here..." She reached out a hoof to touch the cape where she thought the whatever-it-was was. "Newspaper!" The Great and Powerful Trixie yelled in a manner that on anypony else would have seemed kinda nervous. "Go get Trixie a newspaper right now!" "What?" Pinkie Pie asked. Trixie tossed her mane with a hoof and replied, "Trixie needs a newspaper! The guard said he had to search her wagon because of 'recent events,' and she wishes to know why the privacy and sanctity of her home had to be violated in such a manner, so go get Trixie a newspaper right now!" "Oh, you mean like this one?" Pinkie Pie pulled out a brand-new, folded newspaper from behind her back while Trixie did a double-take. It was a copy of The Canterlot Times. Trixie took the newspaper away and checked the date—that morning's—before reading the headline as Pinkie Pie crowded in close to read it over her shoulder. Celestia takes day off, gives job to exploding pony! Panic sweeps Equestria! "Oh wow!" Pinkie exclaimed as she scanned the article. "I really really really want to meet this Rainbow Dash! She sounds awesome!" She started tapping her chin with a forehoof. "I wonder if she'd come if I threw her a party." Trixie wasn't having any of that though. She rolled her eyes and unfolded the paper to see what was below the fold. The article they saw there sounded a lot less awesome. "The Cutie Mark Killer strikes again," Trixie murmured. Pinkie Pie slowed her jumping, and then stopped as the two of them stared at the picture of a blue unicorn with a nice suit lying in the street. He didn't look like he was dead, just sleeping. The only thing wrong with the picture was the bare spot where his cutie mark should have been. He was a blank-flank. "Lord Nobliesse Oblige was found dead early this morning in the vicinity of Old Town Canterlot the morning after attending a philanthropic auction and party being hosted by Fancypants and Fleur De Lise. Witnesses claim that they saw him leave late that night around eleven o'clock saying he wanted to walk back to his mansion on Bit Street since it was such a nice night in spite of the misgivings of his host and hostess. It seems he should have paid more heed to their warnings, because on his way he became the latest victim of The Cutie Mark Killer, the fourth life that the killer has taken since the beginning of his reign of terror two months ago. Nobliesse Oblige was good friends with Fancypants and Fleur, and reportedly a very warm and welcoming pony who had nevertheless made quite a few enemies over the course of his life due to his business dealings. Police are currently looking into several potential leads. In the meantime, they urge all ponies to stay indoors during the night, as every victim has been killed after dark..." Trixie's eyes met Pinkie Pie's as she trailed off, wide and unblinking. Applejack Comprehension ~ Day 2 Applejack attacked the dirt with a fierce intensity that most ponies would not level at a blood enemy. She'd taken up where she'd left off yesterday, digging the last stretch of ditch across the road into Sweet Apple Acres so she could lay a culvert. The problem was, even though she'd broken up the top layer of dirt with the pick, it didn't do diddly jack for the stuff underneath it. Three generations of Apples trotting up and down that road while pulling heavily laden carts had compacted the mixture of dirt and gravel into something that approached the consistency of slightly crumbly concrete. Every time she jabbed her shovel in, she came back with only a half a hoofful of dirt and rock, a sore jaw, and a heaping helping of steadily mounting frustration. Even her own body seemed to be determined to betray her today. Her heart had been beating like it was trying to climb out of her chest ever since she read that danged letter, and the combination of strenuous labor and her building anger at how little headway she was making had every thump feeling like Big Macintosh had just given her a good applebuck right in the ribs. Her stomach didn't know what to feel. One moment she was having hunger cramps like her stomach was trying to eat itself, then the very next she was trying not to toss her breakfast even though she hadn't had any that morning. But regardless of how it felt at the moment, her gut never relaxed, like she needed to be ready to take a blow at any second. Her chest hurt. Her stomach hurt. Her back hurt. Her legs were bruised from breaking the table. Her throat ached. No reason, it just did. And her eyes hurt. They stung like she was getting a faceful of smoke, so she kept digging. Applejack was so busy trying to use the tip of the shovel to pry up a particularly entrenched stone that she didn't even notice her aunt until she set a bucket of water down next to her with a watery plunk. Before the younger mare could say anything—not that she felt like talking at all—she walked off in the direction of the barn without a word. Suddenly, Applejack realized just how parched her throat was. She really didn't want to take even a small break, but it wouldn't do her any good to work herself sick, so she reluctantly put down the shovel and lowered her head to drink from the bucket. When she was done, she wiped a few clinging drops from the corner of her mouth and straightened up, stretching her back in the process. She was about to pick up her shovel again when the sight of Aunt Orange returning with another bucket dangling from her mouth made her pause. "Now what in tarnation? Does she really think I'm that thirsty?" Or that she wanted company right then? She probably wanted to talk, like Rarity. Applejack didn't want to talk though. She didn't want to talk about Macintosh. She didn't want to talk about Fluttershy. She didn't want to talk about Uncle Orange. She didn't want to talk about Rarity or her tantrum. She'd never done anything like that before, at least, not since she was really little. She knew the right way to handle getting mad, and that wasn't it. Like Granny always said, breakin' things didn't make your problems go away. Then you just had a problem and a broke problem. A smart pony didn't do that. A responsible pony wouldn't do that. A strong pony did better than that. She dug her hooves in and worked the problem until it was solved, or if she couldn't solve it, she worked on something else until she could come back to it with a fresh mind. She didn't need nopony to tell her that. She just needed to do better next time. She just needed to be stronger and smarter, and more responsible. The family was having a hard time, and she'd just made it a whole heap worse. How were the rest of them supposed to keep calm and work through this the right way when there was somepony acting like...that? How was she supposed to hold the family together if she couldn't even hold herself together? What she'd done was a bad example and an invitation for all sorts of boneheaded acting out. That was why she didn't want to talk about it; not with Aunt Orange, not with Granny, not with Rarity. The damage was done, and they needed to move on. "I ain't gonna do anything like that again," she muttered to herself. "And pickin' at scabs is just askin' for an infection." I'm gonna have to apologize to Rarity at some point though. Applejack ignored the ache in her throat—which the water had completely failed to get rid of—as well as the approaching mare. Picking up the shovel in her mouth again, she stabbed it into the ground by that rock and tried to pry it up. She couldn't push the shovel in far enough to get under it though. There was just enough loose dirt and grit in the trench to make it hard to see what she was doing, but not enough to actually shovel out. Applejack growled around the handle. She should switch to the pick, but that would mean she'd have to put the shovel down and risk having to talk to Aunt Orange. Applejack's right ear swiveled around and she caught the sound of hooves on gravel coming up behind her. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Aunt Orange put the second pail down next to the first one and walked off again. When she was sure that her aunt was gone, she leaned over to look into the bucket, and sure enough, it was full of water. Applejack put down her shovel and took off her hat to scratch her head. Then she turned to look at the retreating mare and back at the bucket before giving a mental shrug and walked over to where the pick lay in the grass beside the road, forgotten there from yesterday. She felt a quick twinge of guilt. You didn't leave tools outside. They were expensive and that was a good way to lose them. She drove the end of the pick into the ground right next to the rock with a strong swing and started prying, and that was when she realized it wasn't going to do any good. This was one of those dishonest rocks, the kind that's way bigger than it looks with most of it underground, and you had to break your back digging around it before you could get it out. This time, Applejack was caught completely off guard when her aunt returned with the third bucket. It wasn't that she wasn't expecting it, she was just caught up in cursing out whatever sun-forsaken being had invented rocks—all in her head of course. She wasn't about to risk Applebloom chancing by and hearing her using that sort of language. That's why she nearly jumped out of her skin when the older mare tapped her on the shoulder and said, "Can I borrow that?" Applejack looked at her blankly, trying to figure out what "that" was until her aunt gestured at the pick. Then she looked at her blankly, trying to figure out what her posh, hooficured, fancy-dinner attending aunt wanted with a pick. "Applejack?" Aunt Orange said. "The pick please?" "Uh, okay," Applejack said as her confusion started to short-circuit her frustration. She handed the pick over to her aunt and stepped back as the mare took it and went to work. It was a mighty strange sight seeing her work. Her mane, still done up in that fancy towering hairstyle, bobbed up and down with her head, and her swings, while not nearly as strong as Applejack's own, were swift and sure. The ground where she worked sat in three levels: first the road, then the broken ground where Applejack had managed to dig down about three inches below the road surface, and then the completed ditch that ran up to either side. Her aunt was using the pick to dig a sort of mini-ditch in the second level that was about an inch deep and stopped six inches before it dropped off into the real ditch on either side of the road. As soon as she was finished with that, she used the shovel to scoop as much of the loose dirt out of the indentation as she could. When Aunt Orange put the shovel down and went for one of the buckets, Applejack decided that she'd had enough. She wasn't going to fall for it if this was some kind of ruse to get her to talk, but she could still ask what in the hay was going on. "So," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral. "Mind tellin' me what you're doin' to my ditch?" "Diggin'," her aunt responded in a what Applejack could swear was not a Manehatten accent before she picked up the bucket in her front hooves and slowly poured it into the indentation until it threatened to spill over. "If you're gonna dig a ditch, ya should at least dig it right. Give that a good ten minutes to soak before diggin' out what you can, and keep repeatin' until you're done. Doesn't take any less time, but it's a whole lot easier." Applejack had to admit, it was a bit of a clever way to go about doing it, if the water actually soaked in. Whenever the pegasi made a storm, the water just pooled in the ruts on the road; it was so compacted it never got muddy. You could pull a full cart on it without any problems in the wettest of conditions. Applejack frowned a bit. She wasn't so sure she wanted to make it easier anyways. That sort of ruined the whole point of working off her frustration. Aunt Orange stepped back and looked at her handiwork with a matching scowl on her own face. The silence stretched on until it started threatening to become awkward, and then her aunt spoke again. "When I moved away from this sunforsaken farm I swore to Celestia that I'd never dig another hole again so long as I drew breath." Applejack didn't know what to say, and Aunt Orange didn't seem inclined to continue. Neither of them said anything for several minutes while they watched the pool of water slowly soak into the packed earth. "'Course, I also swore I'd stick with my husband 'til the day I died. Seems like I'm breakin' a lot of promises today." If the silence wasn't uncomfortable before, it sure as hay was now. Somehow, with everythin' going on, she'd never gotten her aunt's story. Last night had been hectic, and she didn't remember if her aunt had even gotten to talk to granny alone. Applejack raised one leg and scratched self-consciously at the base of her neck, then she put it back down, and, staring down at the ground, she softly kicked a pebble into the water. She opened her mouth a few times, and all the while, they never once met each others' eyes. Finally, Applejack raised the gumption to ask the question she didn't want to ask. "What happened, Aunt Orange?" Applejack realized her mistake even before she saw her aunt's pained cringe out of the corner of her eye. "Just... Just call me Clementine, Applejack." Her voice, which was back to normal now, took on a wry tone. "I never did like being called Aunt Orange anyway. We're both adults here, and that always made me feel old. A lot of ponies don't understand how much of a faux pas it is to bring up a lady's age. Your friend Rarity though, she seems to get it. She—" Suddenly Clementine stopped herself short. Her head drooped and her ears wilted. This time, she sounded like she was trying not to cry. "He was cheatin' on me." It was at once the most unexpected and the most obvious thing Applejack had ever heard. She struggled for several seconds to find the right thing to say. Aunt O— No. Clementine. Clementine took her silence as invitation for more, or maybe just opportunity. "We'd been having problems with our marriage for a long time. That's a big part of why we waited so long to have a foal, but then we worked all that stuff out, and you came to visit all those years ago and it was so great, and I knew it was time... Everything was good for so long, but then we started arguin' again after Mimosa came along, and I knew somethin' was wrong. I felt it in my bones. Really wrong, not just fighting, so I tried. I tried to make it up, to change, to talk to him about it. I even managed to convince him to go to marriage counselling once, but nothing worked and then I went to surprise him at the office because my therapist said that loss of spontaneity and appreciation is one of the reasons why a lot of older marriages break up, and I saw..." At that point, Applejack couldn't make out any more between the sobs. Somehow—she didn't know exactly when it happened—Applejack found herself holding the older mare in a tight embrace and cursing herself for not wanting to talk about it before. That was about as selfish as a pony could get. "...and I still don't know what to tell Mimosa. She knows somethin's wrong. How could she not? She's a smart filly, but I don't want her to hate him, or me. And all of this happened at the worst possible time and—" "Don't." Applejack's voice was hard as stone. Clementine made a querying sound that was muffled because her face was buried in Applejack's mane. "You were about to say somethin' about how you shouldn't have come here because of all this...this stuff that's goin' on, and I'm sayin' right now before you can get it out that that's a right load of horseapples. This is exactly the right time for you to be here. You're an Apple. That didn't ever go away." She didn't even need to say the rest. Clementine probably knew even better than Applejack what Apples did during bad times. They helped each other stand no matter how bad it hurt. Applejack extricated herself from Clementine's hold and looked her in the eyes, and when she was sure that she understood, she pulled the older mare into another rib-crushing hug. "You're not alone, and you don't deserve to be." Clementine sniffed once and then said in a thick voice, "Neither do you." There was the blow to the gut that she'd been bracing for. Applejack was glad that Clementine couldn't see her face. She opened her mouth to talk, only to realize that she didn't have anything to say. Her mouth was empty, and so was her head. For some reason, she couldn't even think about it to figure out if Clementine was telling the truth, let alone why she was wrong. Clementine sniffed again, and when she spoke, her voice was a little bit stronger. "I've been to enough society dinners to know when somepony is putting on a mask, Applejack. And you're not very good at it to begin with." She pulled away from the embrace and looked Applejack in the eyes. The younger mare wanted to stare at the ground, but she forced herself to meet her gaze. "You're an Apple too." All the anger and frustration from before suddenly boiled up in Applejack's belly. There wasn't a single second of the day she didn't think about that! Not a single word she said didn't try to help them! Not a single thing she did that wasn't built around that fact! How dare she! Applejack's angry response was interrupted by the sight of three pegasi flying in formation. As one, they swooped down low over the apple orchards and made a complete circuit of the farm. They were all different colors, but every single one of them was wearing a green uniform that she recognized instantly. Big Macintosh had one just like it. Clementine turned, her eyes following Applejack's gaze, and she asked, "What are they doing?" "I don't know," Applejack said slowly. Barely contained anger dripped from every word, "but they're tresspassin'." "It's like they're looking for something," Clementine said a bit nervously. "Maybe Fluttershy?" "No. The search teams already went over the farm from leaf to root, and these ponies aren't from around here. I don't recognize them." Something about this was wrong. Very wrong. As they watched, the wing of pegasi banked and made a pass over the barn, circled, and landed in front of the house. Applejack broke into a gallop, the memory of smoke strong in her nose. Twilight Sparkle Comprehension ~ Day 2 In Twilight's opinion, Ponyville was really small for a town so close to Canterlot. It probably didn't even have a thousand ponies living in it. It's probably because it's right on the Everfree Forest. As the chariot descended towards the town below, she took a moment to gaze over the rooftops at the dark forest in the distance. The Everfree Forest was legendary throughout Equestria for its unnatural, uncontrollable, and unpredictable weather, and its extraordinarily dangerous wildlife. According to her research, the only thing the town had going for it was their weather team. They had a reputation for being among the craziest and the best in all of Equestria. A lot of weather pegasi on fast-track careers came from Ponyville. Before long, the chariot fell below roof-level, and a couple seconds later it landed without even a bump in front of what looked like the town hall. That was when she saw the first uncomfortable signs that a few ponies in this town might be a few syllables short of an incantation. As she and Spike stepped out of the chariot, a grey earth pony wearing a large, nearly manic, and obviously fake grin ran up and stopped uncomfortably close Twilight's face. She could smell the other pony's breakfast on her breath. Twilight put on her own best fake smile while trying not to fall back into her foul mood and asked, "Would you happen to be Mayor Mare?"